Good Boy, Daddy Chapter 5
Female Supremacy as implemented through a stepdaughter's growing control over her stepfather
I got five minutes of peace after breakfast. Five minutes of pretending to answer work emails and hiding in my home office before Kila crashed into the room and flopped over the back of my chair. She sprawled like a barn cat, hair in my eyes and her bare legs cold as marble against my arm.
“Dad. Field trip time.”
I kept my hands on the keyboard, hoping she’d lose interest. “Not today, sweetheart. Swamped.”
“Bullshit.” She spun the desk chair, somehow managing to stand astride my legs. Still barely dressed in the tank top and shorts. My hands appeared at her hips. When she moved closer, I could smell her pussy. “First, I want you to say it.”
Kila’s fingers were soft as they stroked my hair. I didn’t resist as she pulled me towards her. Pumped her pelvis against my face. I inhaled her musk and felt my cock throb to full life.
“I want to fuck you,” I said, looking up her. “Why do you make me keep saying it?”
“Because I can.” She shrugged. “Because it’s true and I’m never going to let you forget it.” Her knees pressed on the arm of the chair as she climbed on top of me. Shoved my face against the wet fabric between her legs. “Because I can do anything I want with you, Daddy. So, when I say it’s time for a field trip, you don’t give me that bullshit line about being busy. Whatever you thought you’d do today? That waits. I’m not Mom. You obey me, my sweet, inferior Daddy. Obey that pussy you crave.”
My eyes closed. Helpless. I let Kila hump my face against the crotch of her shorts. Let her literally rub my face in the sudden helplessness she inspired in me.
“Tell me you’ll take me shopping,” she said. When I did as she demanded, she laughed and stepped back, hand on her hip, and stared at me. “I never dreamed it would be so easy to do this to you. I figured you’d at least put up token resistance. But I’ve got you pussy-whipped, and you haven’t even gotten inside this pussy.” She shook her head. “Get your keys. Mom and I want to spend your money.”
At least the drive over was relatively peaceful. With Bryn sitting next to me, Kila couldn’t actually put her hands on me. While I appreciated the breather, it made me wonder why it was so important to have me along. There was no way either of these women wanted my opinion on fashion.
The Galleria was made for people nothing like us. Valet parking and glass elevators, polished terrazzo so clean it made your sneakers squeak like a fart. We never shopped here, not unless Bryn had a bonus to burn, but Kila acted like she owned the place. She walked three steps ahead, hips swinging, head on a swivel for the best place to do damage.
Bryn clung to my arm, a little more touchy than usual. She wore a crisp white blouse and pale blue jeans, hair pulled back in a glossy ponytail that made her look five years younger. I almost didn’t recognize her when she caught my eye in a mirrored shop window.
“You’re beautiful,” I told her. “I can’t believe a guy like me could land such a magnificent woman.”
My wife laid her head on my shoulder. Her reflection smiled up at mine. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get laid,” she said softly. “You should keep trying. It might just work.”
Arm in arm, we turned to find Kila watching us impassively. As if on impulse, she pulled out her phone and tapped a message. A moment later, it buzzed the phone in my pocket. She turned on her foot with a grin and let her swaying ass entice me along. I fished out my phone and checked it.
“You don’t fuck her,” it said. “I own your dick.”
“Anything important?” Bryn asked as I shoved my phone back in my pocket. I shook my head. “Good. I want a family day.”
Kila steered us into the first boutique with a name I couldn’t pronounce. Mannequins posed in the window like sex crimes, all strategic gaps and cartoon proportions. Kila immediately peeled off to the racks, hands flying over the hangers, flicking through three-hundred-dollar dresses like she was sorting mail.
“Can we get lattes first?” I whispered to Bryn, but she was already on her phone, scrolling through a list. My eye tried and failed to avoid the section labeled “intimate apparel.” “I don’t know why I’m even here.”
“You’re here because your daughter wants you here. And so do I.” She pulled away slowly. “Don’t make faces. Just smile and tell us we look beautiful.”
“Easy to say the truth,” I replied. My guts quivered like jelly as Bryn joined her daughter. There was no way Kila was going to let this happen easily.
It was wonderful to watch them together, though. Kila was a younger, slightly heavier version of her mother, and the genetic connection was obvious. I watched them chatter as they flipped through clothes. They were happy. I’d pay a thousand dollars to make that last the entire day.
“Looking for something in particular?”
I startled at the voice. Turned to find a clerk who had to be even younger than Kila standing uncomfortably close. The soft scent of lavender tickled my nose as I took in the waifish body. Not really my type, but I was so horny from aching for Kila that my cock rose half-hard.
“Whatever they want,” I said. “As long as those two women leave here happy, I don’t care.”
The words left my mouth before I remembered where I was. I almost saw the dollar-signs in the clerk’s eyes as she moved towards my wife and stepdaughter. Well, I told myself, it was just money. Probably a lot of it.
Bryn laughed, pulling me out of my head. Kila pushed her towards the dressing room as she tossed out excuses of being too old for fashion and not having the body for it. Just like with me, Kila refused to take no for an answer. As soon as the dressing room door closed, my stepdaughter turned towards me and grinned. Crooked a finger at me.
Unable to resist, I crossed the floor. Stood in front of her like a man on trial. She grabbed my hand and led me to a padded seat against the wall. Pushed me into it.
“Don’t move,” she said, pointing a finger at me. Laughing, she sauntered to the dressing room and knocked. “Coming in.”
I put my head in my hands. I was doomed. No matter what I did, Kila had the upper hand. And would have it as long as she wanted. I looked up as the door opened and Kila led her reluctant mother out for me to see.
“Holy…”
Standing, I blinked at the vision in front of me. No more mom jeans or oversized shirts. The woman in front of me reminded me of the one I’d so desperately needed in my life two decades ago.
Strappy black high heels stretched her long legs, letting my eyes glide up the expanse of her flesh. A dark amber skirt hung barely an inch longer than it had to be in order to hide her panties. A skin-tight linen blouse, opened in a V lower than her breasts. I felt my mouth fall open and I just stared.
“I think he likes it, Mom,” Kila said. “Show him the back.”
The top had no back. Just thin strings that crossed as they wove from her shoulders to her waist. A small slit over one thigh let the skirt ride up until I saw a flash of white panties. My cock ached. Unable to resist, I walked towards her like passing through a fog.
“You’re gorgeous,” I whispered. “Bryn…”
A faint blush colored her cheeks. “I’m much too old to dress like this,” she said. “I feel worse than naked.” Her eyes met mine. Her lips curved as she pulled my mouth to hers for a tender kiss. “Sometimes I wonder if you still want me,” she whispered. “Right now, I know you do. I’d dress like this every day if it made you want me this way.”
“I’d undress you every night if you dressed this way every day,” I whispered. My wife grinned and wrapped me in a full body embrace. “I love you, Bryn.”
“I feel it,” she said, pulling back to touch our foreheads. “Right here.” Her pelvis ground against my cock and I moaned. “Should I buy this outfit for tonight?”
“I want to fuck you,” I whispered. Gulped nervously. In twenty years, I’d never spoken so coarsely to my wife. “I mean…”
“I want you to fuck me,” she whispered. “I need it, Garrett.”
“Get a room, you two,” Kila interrupted. Her mom laughed and stepped back, eyes promising a night I’d remember forever as she closed the door to the dressing room. As soon as it clicked, Kila was in front of me. “Eat her pussy all you want,” she said softly. “If you put your dick in her, she’ll know you want to put it in me. She’ll think you were fucking me in your mind while you were fucking her body.”
“Please, Kila…”
“Don’t.” Her eyes were cold and hard. “I own that cock. You save it for me.”
She barely stepped back when the door opened. Bryn stepped out with the skirt and blouse back on the hangers. She handed them over to the clerk and shook her head.
“I’m not letting you pay that much for something you want to take off of me,” Bryn said, sidling up to me. “You can imagine me in it, right? If you want me to dress up, find me something reasonable.”
“Reasonable doesn’t go with fuck-me,” Kila tossed at her mom. As Bryn’s face turned crimson, her daughter stepped into the dressing room and closed the door. “Don’t go anywhere. I need help deciding which one to get.”
Bryn put her arms around my waist and leaned against me. My hand moved over her ass, still firm and inviting. She grinned.
“Still want to fuck me?”
“Yes.”
Laughing, she pulled away. “The coffee rental program is in full swing,” she said. “Wait for me here. I need to find the ladies’ room.”
I returned to my seat, heart pounding. How could I possibly please both women? It was impossible. Bryn obviously wanted me, for the first time in almost a year. But if I went with her desires, then Kila would ruin me.
The dressing room door clicked open, drawing my gaze. I expected to see Kila step out in a new dress. What I saw was the reflection of my stepdaughter’s naked body in the mirror on the door, her eyes boring into mine. She pantomimed jerking a cock.
“Do it,” she whispered hoarsely. “Or I’ll tell her.”
Looking around nervously, I found the clerk on the other side of the store. My eyes returned to Kila and I cautiously rubbed my hand at the front of my pants. A satisfied smile curved over her wicked lips. I watched her knead her breasts as my arousal streaked towards the peak. Kila turned her back and bent to step into a skirt, showing me the glistening wetness between her legs.
I almost lost it. Had to stop rubbing my cock and lean back. Close my eyes and pretend this wasn’t happening. My pulse pounding in my cock and in my temples. Slow, deep breaths didn’t help, because behind my eyelids, I still saw the pale, white flesh of my stepdaughter’s body.
“What do you think?”
My eyes flew open to find Kila standing in front of me. The sight of her took the air from my lungs. As beautiful as her mother was, Kila was radiant. A goddess in full power.
“You look amazing,” I whispered, eyes rounding the curves of her breasts under the faint yellow tank top and creamy white pants. The matching blazer made it look almost professional, if it didn’t offer proof that she was wearing nothing under it. “Beautiful.”
“Would you rather fuck me or my mother?” she demanded. “Choose carefully, Daddy. You never know what I might accidentally say during girl talk.”
My soul deflated. Head hung forward as shame filled me. Always back to this. The one fact of my existence that I would give anything to change, but was powerless to even address.
“You,” I whispered.
“What was that?” Kila put her hand to her ear and leaned forward. “Say it loud and proud, Daddy.”
“I would rather fuck you than your mother,” I said, pitching my voice loud enough to satisfy her, but not enough to carry. I hoped. “Please, Kila. You’re destroying me.”
“Not my problem,” she said, turning on her heel. Her hips swayed, knowing I was staring at her ass as she returned to the dressing room. “You’re inferior, Daddy. This is the kind of problem that comes with that. If you weren’t so… weak, it might be different.”
Kila left the dressing room door ajar again. Stared at me as she removed the jacket. Unzipped the pants. Once again, her hand jerked in front of her pelvis. Obediently, I began rubbing my tortured cock through my pants.
I watched helplessly, cock throbbing, as my stepdaughter stripped down to her skin. Saw her struggle into a faux snakeskin pantsuit. Turning one way then the other, she stared at her ass in the reflection. Met my eyes as I fought my need to come in my pants. She smirked.
I had to stop twice before Kila peeled the snakeskin off her body. As horny as I was, it didn’t take me long to reach my edge. Watching me torture myself for her amusement, Kila sat on the bench in the changing room and held her legs wide for me. Let me see one finger disappear into the glistening hole I wanted to fill so badly. Even at the distance, I could see the hot, throbbing pink of her body.
“Come here,” she said softly, crooking her finger. Like a moth chasing a tongue of flame, I obeyed. She guided my hands to her hips as she turned, bending at the waist to step into a dress. The scent of her pussy drove me crazy. Kila giggled as she leaned back slowly, until the heat of her cunt was resting against the front of my pants. “Say it.”
“I want to fuck you,” I growled. “I want to fuck the living hell out of you.”
My stepdaughter stood, pulling the dress over one shoulder, then the other. She used my hands to lift her breasts and settle them into the tight fabric. I moaned. She giggled.
“Mom’s coming up behind you,” she said softly. “Zip up my dress and step back. Be a good daddy.”
My hand was still on her hip when Bryn’s voice echoed from the next stall: “How’s it going?”
Kila didn’t flinch. “Great! Daddy’s helping me with the zipper,” she said, all innocence.
Bryn poked her head around my shoulder, her body resting against my back. I could almost hear her eyes cataloging the dangers of her daughter’s body. When I turned to her, Bryn was fully in my arms, her mouth pressed to mine.
“I had to play with myself in the bathroom,” she whispered. “Seeing how much you wanted me just…” She grinned as her hand found my throbbing cock. “Were you thinking about me?”
“Absolutely,” I grinned, running my hands down her back to grab her ass. “I can’t stop thinking about that outfit on you.”
My wife looked uncertain. Eyes flicked over my shoulder.
“Do you really think I’m the kind of woman who can wear that?” she whispered. “I mean…” Her eyes found mine. “I used to be that kind of woman. Do you want me that way again?”
“I never stopped wanting you that way,” I breathed. I leaned my head on her shoulder. “I would take you right here, right now if I could.”
My mouth found hers and I put all the pent-up hunger into it that I couldn’t express any other way. Bryn pulled back slightly. Then leaned into me, opening her mouth.
Kila’s body pressed against my back, reminding me that I was owned and leashed. Bryn smiled against my lips as she wiggled against my cock. I moaned.
“Guys, you’ll get us thrown out of here,” she whispered. “If you’re going to bone my mom, could you not do it in front of me?”
“Kila!” Bryn stepped back, covering her face with both hands. Scarlet flooded up her throat to her hairline. Her shoulders shook so hard I thought she was sobbing. It wasn’t until she dropped her hands to fan her face I saw she was laughing. “Don’t be so… vulgar.”
“I’m almost naked and you’re making out with my dad,” Kila observed. “I hardly think I’m being vulgar. I could say… I don’t know… if you’re going to plow my mom like a wet field…”
“Stop!” Bryn covered her face again and turned her back. “Garrett, tell your daughter to behave herself.”
“I don’t think she listens to me anymore,” I said, my voice cracking as Kila took the opportunity to reach around and squeeze my cock. “She’s pretty much in charge of what she does.”
“Thanks, Daddy,” she said, as if nothing had happened. The door to the changing room snicked closed behind me. “Daddy, if I can’t make up my mind, will you buy me all three outfits?” Something about the innocence in her voice was threatening. I looked at Bryn, my arm snaking around her waist as she leaned against me. She nodded.
“Of course, sweetheart,” I said, dropping my hand to squeeze Bryn’s ass. She bit her lip as her eyes glittered. “I’ll do anything you want.”
Store after store, dressing room after dressing room. Kila had her mother trying on more elaborate outfits, each time disappearing to the stalls and leaving me with Kila. Each time, Kila made a game of pushing me closer to total humiliation. She’d brush her ass against my crotch, “accidentally” grind her palm into my lap, or whisper filthy commands in my ear.
Once, as we waited for Bryn to model a pantsuit, Kila pressed her lips to my ear and whispered, “I want to suck you off right here. Make you come in your khakis. Do you think the salesgirls would notice?”
My cock swelled to full, hot panic. I tried to shove my hands in my pockets to hide it, but she just smirked and leaned against me, pinning my hard-on flat. Quietly slid onto my lap and ground her ass at me.
“You’re pathetic,” she whispered. “Getting hard for your daughter. In public. You can’t even stop it, can you?”
I shook my head, unable to meet her eyes. Watched her place my hand on her inner thigh. Slide it upwards until it met sweltering flesh. “If I gave you the chance, you’d fuck me right now. On the bench. In front of Mom.”
I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood. The world spun around us: mothers with daughters, dads glued to their phones, little kids running in circles. All of them oblivious, all of them safe from the storm churning inside me.
Kila licked her lips. “Say it,” she demanded. “Say what you want.”
I tried to resist, but the words slipped out, ragged and desperate: “I want to fuck you.”
Her eyes glittered. She squeezed my cock through the thin fabric. “Louder,” she hissed. “I want to hear it.”
“I want to fuck you,” I whispered, louder this time. “I want to fuck you, Kila.”
Her smile was pure evil. “You will,” she said, and let go, leaving me throbbing and wet with shame.
When Bryn came out to show off a new dress, Kila made a point of rubbing up against me, just to remind me of who owned my body now. Bryn beamed at both of us, proud and radiant.
“You two are so cute together,” she said. “I wish we could do this every weekend.”
Kila’s eyes never left mine. “Me too, Mom. Me too.”
By the fourth store, I was dizzy with arousal and terror. My boxers stuck to my skin, and every time Kila touched me I felt a pulse of adrenaline so sharp it hurt. In the last boutique, Bryn picked a dozen blouses and headed to the fitting room. Kila sat next to me on the little velvet couch, crossing her legs so her skirt rode up mid-thigh. She glanced around the shop, then turned to me.
“I’m bored,” she said. “Entertain me, Daddy.”
“Please don’t,” I begged, but she already had my hand in hers, dragging it onto her bare thigh. Her skin was electric. My pulse hammered. Kila spread her legs just a fraction, and I felt the heat between them. She pressed my fingers against the crease of her inner thigh, so close to her pussy that I could feel the wetness soaking through. “Kila, please…”
“You know I’m not wearing underwear,” she said, just loud enough for me to hear. “You like that, Daddy? Knowing you can put your fingers in your daughter’s twat while everyone around you is oblivious to what you’re doing? You want to finger your daughter’s pussy in public?”
My body screamed for it. My mind rebelled. “Someone will see,” I said, voice breaking.
“Then be subtle,” she said, “or I’ll make you do it anyway.”
She guided my hand under the hem of her skirt. My fingers grazed her mound, shorn smooth, already slick with arousal. I tried to pull away, but she clamped her thighs around my hand, holding me in place.
She leaned in, lips barely parted and eyes dark with threat and promise. “Finger my cunt,” she whispered, each syllable sharp and deliberate, the hiss of it slicing through the bland, piped-in music and the distant thrum of commerce. “Be a good boy.” Her voice was low, private, but the shape of the command burned in my brain.
The world narrowed to her skirt, her heat, the slick, feverish damp that met my hand. I hesitated, but only for a moment, because the pressure of her thighs and the wet, insistent pull of her need made it impossible to do anything but obey. My fingers pressed into the swell beneath her skirt, parting the soft lips until I felt them slip into her body. She arched, caught her breath, and for a second her defenses crumpled, eyes rolling back as she let me in.
I could hear Bryn talking to a sales associate in the changing stalls, oblivious to the way her daughter’s hips rocked against my hand. The contrast was a knife in my gut, shame and lust and the certainty of disaster wrapped into one inescapable sensation. Kila’s hand closed over my wrist, guiding and squeezing, making sure I couldn’t withdraw even if I wanted to.
“Just like that,” she whispered. Her knuckles whitened around my arm, nails digging half-crescents into my skin. “A little deeper.” She gasped, a small, animal sound, and her whole body shuddered. She snapped her head up, the mask of normalcy slipping back over her face as a salesgirl drifted past, arms loaded with dresses for another customer.
“Can I help you find anything?” the woman asked, pausing just in front of us.
Kila grinned brightly, the obscenity of the moment invisible to everyone but us. “Just waiting for my mom,” she said, her tone sugared and innocent. She pointed at the fitting room with her free hand, while her other hand ground mine deeper into her cunt. “Take your time in there, Mom!” she added, her voice ringing clear enough for Bryn to hear.
The salesgirl nodded and moved on, her heels clicking back toward the register. Kila’s grip tightened, her thighs trapping my hand as she leaned in, her hair brushing my cheek. “Faster,” she mouthed, making sure no one else could hear. “You’re going to make me come, Daddy. Right here.”
My hand shook with the effort and the terror. I glanced around. A young couple argued over shoes, a pair of old men watched the football game near the front on their phones, and two teenage girls giggled by the mannequins… But nobody saw, nobody guessed, that I was finger-fucking my stepdaughter. That I was risking everything I held dear in my life to obey Kila’s obscene command.
Every muscle in my body was tight, my cock so hard I was afraid it might burst. Kila’s breath came in uneven gasps, her face pressed into my shoulder to muffle each whimper. Sweat ran down my neck, and my free hand gripped the couch so hard it hurt. She let go of my wrist and grabbed my thigh for leverage, her knuckles grazing my erection through the fabric.
She kept her eyes on me, her gaze both daring and worshipful, as if she was claiming all of me in that filthy, impossible moment. “You love this, don’t you?” she whispered. “Love being used. Love that you can’t stop. What would you do if Mom saw us right now?” She clenched around my fingers and hissed, “Would you keep going, Daddy? Would you still make me come, even if she sat down next to us?”
I tried to answer, but the words dissolved in a rush of need so raw it scared me. All I could do was drive my hand harder, deeper, feeling her body pulse and shudder around me. I couldn’t let Bryn find us. Couldn’t publicly humiliate the woman I loved.
Kila’s lips curled into a sneer, her voice a venomous whisper. “You’re so fucking weak,” she moaned, clutching my hand even tighter in her lap. “Completely inferior. You’d do anything I told you, wouldn’t you? If I made you crawl under this couch and lick my pussy, you’d do it.” Her breath hitched, the inner muscles of her thighs spasming around my wrist, and I could feel the pulse of her heartbeat through the slickness that coated my fingers. She leaned forward, just enough to bring her face to mine, her words seeping directly into my brain. “You’re just a cock, an instinct, a need. That’s all you are to me now.”
She mashed my hand up harder under her skirt, grinding her cunt against my knuckles, and I could feel her start to shake. “So fucking pathetic, Daddy,” she hissed. “You’re getting off on this, aren’t you? Getting hard for your own daughter, in front of all these strangers. Every time you feel me soak your hand, it makes you even weaker. I can smell you, Daddy. You stink of desperation.”
My face burned. The shop, with its gentle hum of music and bland domesticity, felt like a cruel hallucination. None of the mothers, none of the daughters, none of the staff or idle men would ever guess what was happening a yard away from them. But for me, every nerve and every sense was jammed wide open; the heat of Kila’s body, the tight, humid press of her need, the way her voice made my cock throb so hard I nearly whimpered.
Kila yanked me closer, her breath trembling in my ear, and the threat in her voice was as palpable as her arousal. “You’re going to keep your fingers inside me until I come,” she said, “and if you stop or pull away, I’ll scream. I’ll tell Mom exactly what you did, and you’ll watch her hate you forever. So be a good boy, Daddy. Fuck me with your hand. Right here.”
Tears pricked my eyes, equal parts terror and hunger. I could barely breathe. But the humiliation, the promise of total ruin, only made my cock stand up harder and my vision blurry with need. I worked n tiny, trembling strokes, terrified someone would see. Kila’s breath quickened, her eyes fluttering. She held my wrist tight, rolling her hips in slow, steady circles. My cock was so hard it hurt.
She leaned in, lips at my ear. “You make me so fucking wet,” she whispered. “You have no idea.” She panted softly. “I want your cock, Daddy. I want you to fuck me until I cry.”
For a moment, everything in the world grew silent except the frantic, shallow breaths leaking from Kila’s lips. Her hand seized my wrist, nails sinking hard enough to etch red lines into my skin, but I kept moving my fingers, locked into the frantic, staccato rhythm she demanded. Her entire body tensed as if she’d been electrified. Her spine arched off the little couch, hips bucking so savagely I worried she’d tip us both backward onto the boutique’s ornate rug. Her head fell back, mouth parted in a silent scream, chest heaving as her climax tore through her. I felt it in the clench and flutter of her cunt around my fingers, hot and wet and so tight I could barely move. For a split second, I couldn’t tell if the pounding in my ears was from my own terror or the pulse of her orgasm.
Kila’s hand shifted suddenly, knuckles white as she clamped my wrist in place, holding me there, forcing me to ride it out with her. Time stretched until the wave finally broke. Her grip eased, thighs relaxing their vise, and I managed to withdraw my trembling hand. The scent of her filled the air between us. I tried to wipe my fingers on my jeans, but she caught my hand and squeezed it tight, smearing her wetness across my knuckles with a lazy, almost affectionate motion.
She slumped back, breath ragged, eyes glazed with the aftershock. But even in her daze, she radiated triumph. My submission had been her victory, and she enjoyed every atom of it. The rest of the world came rushing back: the low hum of shoppers, the distant click of high heels, the butter-yellow light filtering through the boutique windows. I realized I was sweating as if I’d run a mile.
Kila glanced at me, a wicked little smile tugging her lips. She patted my knee and leaned back, legs spread like she didn’t care if the world saw. The wetness glistened on my fingers. “You’re a natural,” she said.
Bryn reappeared, radiant in a peach blouse. “That looks so good on you,” Kila said, then turned to me. “Doesn’t it look amazing, Daddy?”
I wiped my hand on my jeans, still trembling. “Beautiful,” I said, and meant it.
Kila smiled. She’d won again, and I couldn’t even pretend to mind. I rubbed my chin and inhaled the scent of my stepdaughter’s pussy. My cock gave an answering throb. I was exactly what she said I was. Pathetic. Horny. Needy.
And completely unable to refuse her in any way.